


butterflies

by midnight_files



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, High School Students NCT Dream, M/M, NCT 2019, NCT Dream - Freeform, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 12:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20724074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnight_files/pseuds/midnight_files
Summary: jaemin swears he feels butterflies around them.





	butterflies

“Congratulations to the girls’ varsity lacrosse team for their 3-0 victory last night, securing their spot in this year’s divisional finals. Spectacular performance, ladies! Also, as a reminder for seniors, Prom is right around the corner! Grab your tickets before 3pm tomorrow. That’s all everyone, have a wonderful day!”

Jaemin releases something between a grunt and a sigh, forehead slamming against his locker too harshly to  _ not _ be painful. A palm rests on his shoulder blade, delivering a comforting squeeze, and its owner mumbles a quiet ‘It’s not too late’ only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

Exasperatedly, Jaemin jolts his head up and whips around quick enough to give them _ both _ whiplash (since Jeno had to reel back before their heads collided), lower lip pursed into a persistent pout. “It’s literally the day after tomorrow, Jeno, and I haven’t talked to him since we were math  partners. Three  _ months _ ago. Not to mention I was a total dunce and he had to do everything.”

“Not your fault you suck at math,” Jeno replies in an attempt to reassure Jaemin, but it only heightens his desire of being swallowed whole by the ground underneath. “I bet he hates me,” Jaemin continues, not missing a beat and ignoring the shrieking bell that awakens everyone in the building. “That’s not true,” Jeno dismisses, nudging Jaemin’s side with an elbow as they begin to head towards English together.

Excited giggles and longing whispers from the underclassmen fill their ears until they enter their classroom, but Jaemin doesn’t have the energy to offer people polite smiles today and so he has his hoodie tugged over his head, covering his eyes, relying on Jeno to guide him safely to his seat.

Time goes by slower than usual, each agonizing tick of the second hand causing Jaemin to sink deeper and deeper into his seat until his long legs hang off the edge and his teacher has to yell at him to straighten his posture. The apples of his cheek match the strawberry tint of his hair and he mutters an apology shyly, avoiding all the eyes fixated on him. 

When the bell  _ finally _ rings, Jaemin is quick to toss his notebook and pencil case into his bag, slinging a strap around his right shoulder and heading straight out the door with Jeno. The last ones in and the first ones out, as always. Second period is his free period which he, thankfully, shares with Jeno. There was absolutely no way in Hell that Jaemin could come up with a proposal this soon with just his singular braincell.

“I’m thinking something casual,” Jeno begins, tossing a pretzel into his mouth and chewing obnoxiously loud as they lounge on the benches at the edge of the courtyard. “He seems really shy so something grand might scare him off.”

Jaemin agrees with that. Though Renjun had his own fair share of popularity, being the ‘_handsome foreign exchange student_’ of everyone’s dreams, Jaemin had caught onto how introverted the male seemed. He looked so… uncomfortable and out of place with all these freshmen girls breathing down his neck. Way too many times had Jaemin dreamed of wrapping his arms around the smaller male and hissing at everyone to _back off_. In fact, he’d almost acted on it thrice, but thankfully Jeno had tugged him back with a finger hooked into the collar of his shirt, saving Jaemin embarrassment and himself, second hand embarrassment.

“Well, we both have a free period before our last class, which is Math, so should I ask him then? Or wait until after school?” Jaemin inquires, glancing at his wristwatch to see how much time he had left to prepare himself mentally. “I’d say just walk up to him before class, because word might spread if you ask him to meet you after class… given both your reputations,” comes the wise answer from his best friend. 

“You’re right. Donghyuck would definitely bug me about it for weeks to come and then tell Chenle who has the  _ loudest _ mouth,” Jaemin grimaces. He loved them both, he really did, but sometimes they didn’t know when to keep their mouths shut. “Chenle would tell Jisung, Jisung would tell the other freshmen, and… go figure,” Jeno finishes for him with a knowing snicker as Jaemin rolls his eyes heavenwards.

A single leaf sways from side to side, slowly lowering itself onto the field in front of them, almost mocking Jaemin with its suave, carefree movements. If Jeno catches him glaring at nothing like a madman, he surely doesn’t say anything about it.

  
  
  


8th period arrives way too suddenly, in Jaemin’s opinion. Jeno’s got gym this period so Jaemin is all alone in the narrow corridor of the History wing on the fourth floor. He’s got about thirty minutes to find Renjun since he takes ten minutes to give himself a pep talk, looking absurd by the way he slaps his own cheek and chants reassuring words under his breath. He prays that Renjun doesn’t end up moving to a place he’s already checked amid his searching. Yes, life likes to play unfair, but his parents are both  _ very _ diligent with religious rituals so surely some of their good karma has to rub off on their only son. Right?

By the time Jaemin espies the signature black side bag and brunette locks trapped by a fashionable beret, there’s only five minutes left in the period. Renjun is too focused on packing away his materials, he doesn’t notice Jaemin drawing closer until he stands up, jumping backwards by how close the boy is. Jaemin, too, stumbles away, not having noticed how far his legs had taken him. “Sorry,” Jaemin mumbles as Renjun leans against the window sill, one hand around his bag’s strap and the other placed over his chest as if it would ease the violent beating of his heart. 

A few seconds of silence pass, Renjun’s gaze curious but lips still sealed shut, and Jaemin releases a rather heavy sigh, mustering up all the courage he has. “Would you… I mean, well. Do you want to go to Prom?”

Silence rests between them again, midnight irises gazing into a hazel pair, and Jaemin finds himself falling  _ fast.  _ He’s thankful that nobody has decided to eavesdrop, but then again Renjun probably chose this area to loiter around in because it was sparsely populated and hard to find. Jaemin definitely didn’t imagine all of this happening outside of the Janitor’s closet, for sure.

“Yeah, I do.”

Ecstatic was an understatement. Renjun’s answer had sent Jaemin  _ soaring _ , far past the moon, the stars, the galaxy. Everything was too much and too little all at once. The air leaves his lungs in the form of a relieved sigh and he has to wait until he can manage a response. All that’s left are confused, but joyous, facial expressions. By the time his brain forms a coherent response, Renjun speaks up again.

“Do you?”

Jaemin’s eyebrows knit into a bewildered frown, not sure what Renjun means. “Of course,” he answers in a heartbeat, ignoring how embarrassingly out of breath he sounds, his hand reaching out for Renjun. Before he can feel warm skin against his own, Renjun parts those plush rosettes of his once more.

“That’s great! I’ll see you there! Have you asked anyone?”

_ Oh. _

Voices begin to reach his ears again and Jaemin crashes headfirst into reality, heart feeling like it’d been pushed down to his stomach. Renjun had misinterpreted him. The only reason he had said yes was because he didn’t think Jaemin was asking him out. “No,” Jaemin replies, way to quick to be nonchalant despite the laugh he releases in an attempt to disguise the hurt in his voice. “Yeah, I haven’t yet. I’m still thinking.” 

“Oh. Good luck then!”

Jaemin watches as Renjun leaves him standing there, sparing nothing but a polite smile before heading for the classroom that mathematics was held in.

Jaemin arrives ten minutes late and almost gets detention for it, the teacher only sparing him because he had lied saying he had to escort a friend to the infirmary. Ten minutes isn’t enough to erase the pain blossoming onto his countenance and Jaemin, who always wears his heart on his sleeve, finds himself working hard to conceal his feelings when Renjun tosses him a glance, lips stretched into another one of those  _ breathtaking _ smiles that cause s Jaemin to feel things he shouldn’t.

  
  
  


“I’m sure he’s just dense,” comes Jeno’s muffled commentary over the phone. Jaemin has got him on speaker, leaving his phone charged on his desktop whilst he occupies himself by mentally painting different scenarios on the blank canvas above him. He imagines him and Renjun standing together, Renjun’s left hand on his shoulder, right hand intertwined with his; imagines the soft humming of the stereo as they slow dance at the center of the gymnasium; imagines the shimmering of the discoball leaving sparkles against the smooth curve of Renjun’s cheekbone and the reflection twinkling in those beautiful eyes. “You should try again, Jaem.”

_ That _ pulls Jaemin out of the safe haven he’s created, frowning at his iPhone as if it were Jeno’s face instead. “Are you kidding? And humiliate myself again? No thank you.”

“Look,” there’s a brief pause and he can hear a lot of static, signaling that Jeno was probably shifting to get into a better position on his bed, “He’s a  _ foreign exchange student _ . It’s completely reasonable that he didn’t understand your true intentions. Besides, you didn’t say ‘together’ either so you’re also at fault.” 

Well, that part is true. Jaemin had been so nervous, tongue tied and palms sweaty, that he could barely concentrate on the conversation, losing his natural charm. A groan evades him once he realizes how stupid he must’ve seemed in front of his crush, once again. 

“I’m not counting this as one of your rare courageous moments until you ask him out  _ properly _ , dude,” Jeno continues, making sure to hurt Jaemin’s pride while he’s at it. Jaemin spares him a reluctant sigh and then hangs up the phone as soon as Jeno’s victorious giggling begins.

  
  
  


Jaemin’s not sure if time flies too  _ slowly _ or too  _ quickly _ , but suddenly it’s half past one and he finds himself dragging his feet over to the secluded section of the first floor. The second he’s about to turn the corner, he feels fingers coil around his wrist, effectively stopping him in his tracks and causing him to turn around. Blonde tresses come into view and he soon recognizes the girl before him as his partner from his modern physics class.

Her cheeks are evidently heated, extremities trembling against his skin, and lower lip quivering as she barely manages to get the words out. “Will you go to Prom with me?”

Jaemin  _ hates _ these situations. _ Hates _ being the reason people burst into tears,  _ hates _ the way the hope in their eyes vanishes,  _ hates _ how such  _ amazing _ people have chosen  _ him _ to chase after when they could have done  so, so,  _ so _ much better.

His hesitation should have been more than enough to answer her question, but he knows he owes her a proper reply so he parts his lips, only to cut himself short when he hears shared laughter behind him. He  _ knows _ that laugh. Tossing a glance over his shoulder, he sees Renjun’s head tossed back, bucket hat falling off his head, one palm coming to cover his lips as he straightens his posture again. He  _ knows _ that exact pitch, those exact movements, the endearing crescent shapes that Renjun’s eyes form. Then he sees the silhouette next to him, arms winding around Renjun’s petite waist and head falling to rest on those narrow shoulders of his. And he feels something he’s never felt before. A rush of heat burns within him almost venomously, eyes turning into lethal slits. The draft that breezes through the hallway adjusts his fringe such that it hinders his eyesight, but the laughter is still haunting.

“I’d love to.”

  
  
  


It’s suffocating.

Everyone’s flocking into the gymnasium all at once, pushing and shoving, wanting to be the first ones in so that they can find a good table to claim as theirs. He hears a few insults tossed around and cries as hair gets tangled in accessories, feet get stepped on, and arms get bruised from accidental nudges. Someone nearly falls on him and Jaemin can’t tell if it’s an accident or not by the way the person  _ giggles _ when he wraps his arm around their waist to prevent them from slipping.

His date looks  _ stunning _ and man, if he was into girls, he’s  _ definitely _ be diving in for a kiss later that evening, but since he isn’t, he just offers her a genuine compliment and follows her lead as she finds a table for them with her friends. 

Jaemin’s not surprised to see Donghyuck hanging off of Jeno’s arm. It’s about time those two got together anyways, always flirting during lunch and making Jaemin want to dive into his bowl of the school’s finest  _ bland _ soup. Jeno shoots him a pitiful look when he sees the matching boutonnière and corsage that Jaemin and his date share, but Jaemin dismisses him with a wave, mouthing ‘have fun’.

Thankfully, his date seems to sense that he’s  _ not _ having the time of his life and allows him to linger by the tables as she heads off into the dance floor with everyone else, reassuring him that it was alright when he initially protests and tries to join them, afraid she would be upset. He definitely didn’t deserve her.

The glares that the disco light casts on the polished floors start to give Jaemin a headache, having stared at them long enough, so he stands up and finds himself heading towards the punch table, eyes glued to his leather shoes as if worried his laces would undo suddenly. 

He nearly crashes into someone but to his luck, they raise a hand and gently place it on his chest, halting him on time. “Be careful, silly.”

Jaemin’s eyes shoot up, body reacting instinctively as he jerks himself back and his cheeks flush at record speed. “I’m so sorry.”

Renjun pats the place he’s pressed his palm against twice before retracting his arm, an amused grin tugging onto his lips. “It’s okay. What’s got you so dazed? Your date a tad bit disappointing?” 

_ Tad bit is an understatement,  _ Jaemin thinks as he silently admires the features of Renjun’s face, having to snap himself out of daydreaming. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s an amazing girl, but just… not who I had in mind. How about you?”

His question seems to throw Renjun off because the impish smile no longer exists and a few seconds pass before Renjun’s gaze meets his again, seeming way too shy than usual. “I’m actually… here by myself.”

“What?” Jaemin can’t hide the surprise in his tone, words coming out before he can stop them, “But you’re so… you’re so popular! Surely people asked you.”

“I was… waiting on someone,” Renjun admits sheepishly, line of sight on the space between them, “It’s okay though.” 

“Well, their loss honestly. They must be an absolute idiot for not taking their chance with you,” Jaemin continues, unable to stop the frustration building up within him. How could someone  _ not _ ask someone  _ this beautiful _ when they had a clear shot? Jaemin really fails to understand his own generation.

He’s relieved to see Renjun smile again, happy that he was serving him some sort of entertainment, whatever it may be.

“Jaemin? Do you wanna dance?”

  
  
  


It’s  _ too much _ . It’s nothing like he imagined; it’s  _ more _ .

Renjun is so,  _ so _ fragile, waist small enough for Jaemin’s palm to cover nearly half of it. The warmth of his body radiates through his suit and hits Jaemin with full force, dim light blessing the latter by hiding the scarlet he’s sure has tainted his mien.

They’ve somehow made their way underneath the disco ball, those sparkles he envisioned nonexistent because  _ fireworks _ are exploding in the captivating pools of abyss he stares into.

He can barely hear the music, moving his body along to the soft humming that’s eluding Renjun instead. It’s heavenly and Jaemin finds himself leaning forwards, wanting to hear more, until their faces are but a hair’s breadth away. He can almost count each of those long lashes kissing the tops of Renjun’s cheeks, lips parting a slight with the desire to compliment the boy in front of him as if his life depended on it.

He wants to speak; wants to confess that every time they meet eyes, butterflies erupt in the pit of his stomach and an imaginary lock shuts around his throat; wants to mention how beautiful Renjun looks when he’s laughing, endearing wrinkles by the corners of his eyes and captivating dimples that compliment him; wants to reassure him that he’s  _ all _ anyone could ever desire or need and that whoever didn’t reciprocate his feelings, was an idiot, and that if Renjun was willing to just give him a  _ chance _ , Jaemin would make him forget all about them.

“I wish I’d spent more time with you,” Renjun states, breaking the eye contact they’ve held all this time, and opting to stare at the tie hanging around Jaemin’s neck. “We’ll have the rest of the year and I’m not doing anything over the summer,” Jaemin replies a bit too eagerly.

“I might be flying back to China at the end of the semester.”

Jaemin’s breath gets caught in his throat and he must’ve signaled his confusion, either by tightening his grip on Renjun’s waist or by accidentally missing a step, because Renjun gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I got accepted into a mediocre university close to home and my parents think it’s better for me to study there.”

Jaemin’s brows furrow together, perplexion and bewilderment written across his visage as he searches for Renjun’s gaze persistently. “I thought you got accepted into a prestigious university here. I heard—Everyone was talking about it. The teachers, the students, my friends,” Jaemin trails off when Renjun makes a noise of agreement.

“I did, but I’d be an idiot going there with my broken Korean,” the laugh that follows is far from happy. Jaemin knows, having used one that’s similar too many times before. “I’ll teach you!”

Renjun finally meets his eyes again and Jaemin feels the heat rush up his neck, hating how he’d blurted that without a second thought. Jaemin was far from smart, even in his own language, and definitely not good at teaching, but he’s so, so  _ desperate _ . He doesn’t want to let go. He’s selfish and he  _ loathes _ it, but god forbid he wants something for himself, just this once. 

Besides, he  _ knows _ how smart Renjun is. He’s watched him solve the most complex problems in a matter of mere seconds, glasses threatening to slip off his nose and chalk eroding against the board as he continues to write and write and write, yet everything is correct, as always. There was no way he’d let Renjun risk his education over a few grammatical errors, romantic feelings aside.

“You’d do that for me?” The question is clearly a joke, but something  _ lingers _ in his tone and Jaemin hates the way hope looms in the pit of his stomach because of it. “Yeah, I would. I’m not… the best tutor, but I would if I can’t find you a better one. I’ll… I’ll even pay for it!” Jaemin is jobless and definitely can’t afford that, but he’s willing to try.  _ God _ , he’s willing to do anything. Just  _ please _ don’t take Renjun away.

“You can do it, I know you can. You’ve literally excelled all your honors courses and you’ve only been learning Korean for four years, I  _ know _ it’ll be the same in the university too. You’re so smart, how do you not  _ see  _ that? Talented, hardworking, focused; don’t listen to your stupid insecurities and just—just focus on what you want.”

“What I want, huh?” Renjun repeats and Jaemin swears the expression he’s giving him is one he’s never seen on him before, even through all the stolen glances. He’s so vulnerable and Jaemin just wants to engulf him in an embrace; wants to forget about everyone else around them and just hold him until those negative thoughts fade into nothingness.

“Okay.”

It’s cliché, but the world  _ does _ stop. Either that or Jaemin just can’t pay attention to anyone but Renjun when soft lips meet his, lids fluttered shut just inches away from his. He’s overwhelmed, too aware of the hands that have come up to cup his cheeks, shuddering from the confetti that erupts inside of him. His hands find their way down, curving around Renjun’s hips, and their torsos press against one another, his own lids closing as he kisses back. All he can think about, hear, see, feel,  _ know _ is Renjun, Renjun,  _ Renjun.  _

He hears someone yell ‘I knew it!’ in the background, but doesn’t care enough to respond, only admiring the smile that Renjun fits into the kiss.

And he feels butterflies dance around them.

**Author's Note:**

> whoaaaaa i know this is kind of.. weird.. but i was rly in my soft feels and wanted to write some renmin bc we all know i'm renmin trash lol  
anyw give me your thoughts and opinions!! i love reading them :))
> 
> p.s alternative ending wouldve been sad so.. contemplating on making another angst fic similar to this..
> 
> [ twt. ](https://twitter.com/sookais_)


End file.
